Poem

1.
I found your sadness rather sexy. We
Were writing sonnets and could not stop for
(          ) anything, really. I’m receiving
an impression.       Your distance rather
making me squirm, but in a way. Fancy
for     the redness chamber. Fancy found
in books on birds. Fancy up your water pole.
Each word, limpid, falls. Equivocal. My word.

Your skinny bones breaking like the leaves;
Animated shells are leering. Smiley: where?
Australia, Los Angeles, Spain, Jamaica. I found
Your distance sexy and off-putting. Put to sleep.
Found a wooden table in the shaker style.
Adorned with empty envelopes. You, silly.